It’s difficult to believe that it’s been over ten years since Rx Bandits released The Resignation. I still remember picking up my pre-ordered copy from Avalanche, poring over the CD booklet until I had digested every one of Matt Embree’s lyrics. I still remember listening to it from start to finish every night while on holiday in Lanzarote. After the rest of my family had gone to sleep I’d sit in the balmy air of the hotel balcony with my headphones on, tuning the world out and letting the music envelop me. I still remember countless evenings sitting in my friend Adam’s bedroom, both of us scrutinising each second of the album until every detail was firmly and permanently imprinted on our subconscious. To say that we lived and breathed ‘The Resignation’ is no exaggeration.
Not only is it a significant album from a personal standpoint, it’s also rightly considered a bonafide classic in certain circles. It marks the point in Rx Bandits’ career when they completely shook off the ska-punk tag that had dogged them since their formative years and boldly expanded upon their progressive tendencies that were hitherto only hinted at. A gripping combination of politicised post-hardcore, reggae and prog, it was an anomaly amongst the catalogue of the pop-punk oriented Drive-Thru Records and sounded like little else at the time.
And so, five years after their last visit to Glasgow, Rx Bandits are back and performing their landmark album in full to an adoring crowd who have spent the last decade soaking up its every nuance. The anticipation is palpable as the band arrive onstage, flanked by a two man horn section. Feedback trickles from the PA before they launch into opener ‘Sell You Beautiful’, a damning critique of vacuous celebrity culture that barrels along at a breakneck pace, Matt Embree and Steve Choi’s dovetailing guitars sounding tighter than ever.
Although one could accuse the band of painting with broad lyrical strokes, especially given the more nuanced approach adopted on subsequent albums, the songs have lost none of their power over time. The image of an impassioned crowd earnestly chanting “We’ve had enough of these politicians’ wars, what we need right now is love” during ‘Overcome’ should elicit eye-rolling but even a hardened cynic such as I can’t resist joining in. ‘Republic’, a cautionary tale that spills the beans on the dark side of the music industry (spoiler alert: major labels are evil), sounds incredible. Sure, the lyrics are a little on-the-nose but the song’s fundamental strength is indisputable tonight.
Drummer Chris Tsagakis is Rx Bandits’ not-so-secret weapon this evening, demonstrating inhuman technical prowess and never putting so much as a rimshot out of place. You could spend the whole show with your eyes on Tsagakis alone and never be bored for a second. Which isn’t to say the rest of band are slouches; Joe Troy’s gangling frame weaves around the stage as he wields his bass guitar like a weapon, his mop of dark hair flying wildly with every shake of his hips. The stage streams with motion, particularly during ‘Decrescendo’, the band’s de facto calling card and The Resignation’s climax. It culminates in screeching horns and staccato blasts of distortion before halting abruptly to rapturous cheers from the sweat-soaked crowd. An encore consisting of three highlights from ‘…And The Battle Begun’ closes the evening magnificently.
With a new crowd-funded album on the way later in the year, it’s intriguing to consider where Rx Bandits may go from here. Judging from the reaction of tonight’s spellbound audience, even if they never manage to better The Resignation, the band’s legacy is more than secure.